


Brooding bookshop owners and lousy customers

by myideaofbeautiful



Series: Glances into the life of a grumpy bookstore owner [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:01:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6076908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myideaofbeautiful/pseuds/myideaofbeautiful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus was feeling antsy. Reaching into his pocket he draws out the empty glass phial he had taken to carrying with him since Potter’s disappearance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brooding bookshop owners and lousy customers

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone. Sorry for taking so long to post! Things are really busy so I wouldn't be able to update regularly... Thanks for the comments and kudos, they are much appreciated!  
> The characters do not belong to me and I make no profit from this.  
> Enjoy! :)

Severus was feeling antsy. Reaching into his pocket he draws out the empty glass phial he had taken to carrying with him since Potter’s disappearance.

It’s been more than a week since he had last seen the man in question. And the last he had seen him he wasn’t in the best state. Potter had all but dragged himself into the shop with his glasses riding low on his nose and his hair in even messier than usual. The dark circles under his eyes had made him appear much older and the smile he shot Severus was dimmed by weariness. He spend a large part of the day searching through the section on defence, pouring over book after book and then left with no more than a tired wave over his shoulder.

Glancing up Severus’s hand clenched around the glass phial in an attempt to keep himself from chasing the idiot customer away who was nearing to where Potter’s chair was standing. Taking a deep breath Severus closed his eyes for a moment pinching the bridge of his nose with his unoccupied hand. He felt angry at himself for his unwarranted concern. Steeling himself he pocketed the phial and silently decided to think on the subject no more.

Only to open his eyes and catch sight of the previously mentioned idiot who had now dragged Potter’s chair over to one of the shelves on defence (were those marks on the floor?) and was going through one of the books, paging through it with rough flicks. Severus watched him a few moments in dubious calm - that is until the golden letters naming the dark tome flashed in the flickering light of the candle lit shop. In his mind’s eye he sees Potter leaning forward, finger tracing over the golden letters on the book’s spine, mouthing the words before pulling it out.

Severus shoots out of his chair with a fearsome flourish that had once sent first years sobbing to their dormitories. However not even half way to his victim the wind was taken out of his cape quite literally as a grey haired, mousy man suddenly moved into Severus’s line-of-sight, smile stretching his thin mouth.

“Mr Snape, sir!” the mousy man exclaimed. He had a thick copy of a familiar book clutched in his hand waving it around with frightening enthusiasm. Severus stopped dead in his tracks narrowly avoiding a collision.  

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Phillip Brown and a great devotee of your work.” The man began extending his aged hand in greeting. Severus however did not return the curtesy shooting a gaze over the man’s shoulder at his intended victim. Undeterred the man continued.

“I’ve recently finished your edition on _The Potion Master’s Guide to Potion Making_. I found it extremely helpful especially since I’ve started taking on home brewing. It’s absolutely astounding! Of course in my days…” Severus stood stuck between rolling his eyes and hexing the man out of the way, instead he settled for a harsh glare that did nothing to quell the man’s enthusiasm.

“…I remember the poor soul had singed both his eyebrows after the accident. Took the poor fellow three months to grow them back without any bold patches…”

A loud screech interrupted Brown, the only warning before a brown coloured owl sailed through the open window. It carried a rapped package roughly the size of a medium sized coffee jar. It deftly landed the package on the counter before settling next to it, leaving small claw marks on the dark wooden surface. Irritated Severus shooed the bird away, sending it off with nothing more than a harsh glare and a few words pushed past his clenched jaw.

Only after the owl’s last indignant squawk faded and Mr Brown’s muttered comment fell silent did Severus turned towards the package. It could of course not be one of his suppliers as they usually sent his orders by floo. Severus watched the package intently. He found it strange that it had not been shrunk at all as the owl had looked rather tired after his delivery. Pushing away the small nag of guilt nipping at his conscious Severus lifted his wand to check the package.

He was however stopped - wand freezing mid-swing - as the annoying doorbell rang with its usual fervour. Glancing at the door Severus felt a headache threaten at his temples as Mark Roberts entered, lifting his small pointed hat in stiff greeting. Ignoring the feigned civility Severus strode forward, dark eyes boring down on the man as he drawled in a tone somewhere between threatening and boredom.

“Roberts, what an unpleasant surprize. Anything I can do to make this visit as short as possible.” Roberts’s nose wrinkled and the perfectly trimmed moustache on his lip curled with disapproval. He lifted his nose an inch higher than usual before meeting Severus’s gaze over his rectangular spectacles and answered.

“Snape, do belief that this _visit_ will be as brief as possible. After all you know my stance on the ministries ruling concerning your situation… None the less I have my duty and let me assure you it will be done with the uttermost precision, even if it means polluting myself with your dark presence.” Roberts trailed off, lips thinning with disgust.

Catching the edges of his cloak in each hand Severus crossed his arms wrapping himself up in the dark fabric like a bat enfolded in his wings. He then peered down at the slightly less confidant looking ministry official.

“Conduct your search, Roberts though be sure that there’s nothing to find other than the select few additions approved by the ministry. The small attic at the back can be opened to your ministrations as well, it’s a little dusty and I can’t imagine a cleaning spell that will do the job quite as well as that broom you insist on wearing on your upper lip.”

Roberts opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the creak of Mr Brown’s voice from behind them.

“Oh dearie me, I don’t belief it’s supposed to do that.” Of course after that a set of things happened at once.

Severus turned towards Brown spotting the now smocking package, still untouched, on the counter.

A loud pop of apparation sounded and Potter appeared hair in disarray, green eyes stretched wide in alarm. His eyes travelled from Severus to the package before he made a dash towards the bookstore owner, wand raised and mouth shaping around syllables, the firing crack of magic in the air like static.

Reaching for his own wand was a useless action, because much like Potter he was too late. The package seemed to suddenly take a breath, its sides swelling before an unsounded burst send waves of magic free that expanded till it reached him, pushing against Severus’s skin and squeezing his chest. His lungs desperately fought for air, his mouth opened in a desperate plea. The scars on his neck tingled and Severus reached for them expecting them to open and start weeping red once more.

Just before his word went black Severus was sure he hear Potter’s voice echoing in the background.

***                                                                                                              

Fighting through the fog and making his way back to consciousness Severus resisted the urge to groan. His chest was throbbing numbly and it felt like sharp needles were jabbing his scared throat. It wasn’t the worst Severus had had, not nearly. The complex scramble of silver on his neck proved that. But it didn’t mean that it made his current experience any more pleasurable.

Something around his wrist twitched and Severus’s senses zoomed in to where a pale hand was draped over his’s own. The thumb and forefinger encircled his bony wrist with both a strange possessive air while still being able to make it appear as if the skin-rapped bone beneath his fingers were as fragile as old crumpling parchment.  

The fingers belonged to a familiar dark mob of hair resting on an outstretched arm on the thin mattress next to Severus. Trailing his eyes down Severus noticed how the round rimmed glasses was pushed askew by the awkward angle of Potter’s head and the way his dry lips parted on a silent exhale. There was a slight dusting of freckles littering those cheeks, result of too much quidditch games in the Weasley’s backyard no doubt. A few more seconds passed before Severus shifted quite deliberately and almost succeeded in dislodging the loosening grip.

Potter shot up from his stool, fingers clutching around Severus’s wrist like a manacle. Severus released a soft grunt at the unexpected harsh grip, successfully returning Potters attention to him.

“Severus!” Potter exclaimed before dropping Severus’s hand like it had burned him. “You’re awake!”

Severus tried speaking but nothing more than a harsh squawk made its way out. Potter flinched at the sound before moving towards the small table next to the bed. A faint trickle of water started and Severus could already taste the clear liquid trickling down his throat.  With a soft clink Potter sat the jug back down and moved over, carefully curling his hand behind Severus’s head, lifting it and resting the cool clear cup against his lower lip.

As the first trickle of water wetted his mouth Severus gulped desperately feeling the wildfire in his throat settled. The warmth of Potter’s supporting hand seemed only to fuel Severus’s enthusiasm. After a few more gulps Potter tipped the glass back up and removed it. Severus wanted to demand more but the gentle cradle of Potter’s hand made him drowsy with a feeling he wasn’t able to name. Potter’s eyes seemed almost apologetic as he carefully removed his hand from beneath Severus’s head and turned to put the glass down.  

“I should probably go call the healer, tell her you’re awake.” Severus drowsily hummed his agreement, pain fading as his drowsiness increased. Potter remained unmoving, a strange sort of unwillingness angling his body.  Meeting his green eyes Severus noticed them darkening - pooling with emotions Severus wisely chose to dismiss.

Potter sighed before turning towards the door. There were questions Severus needed answers to, but for now he closed his eyes and allowed Potter’s retreating footsteps to lull him into a light dose.

***


End file.
